The Job of an olive

Seeing the giant olive tree at the Pont du Gard earlier this week reminded me of the thousands of olive trees that surround Prosilia (and the hot summer weather that I'm missing right now). It also reminded me of something I wrote a couple of years ago, so I thought I would share.

THE JOB OF AN OLIVE

The job of an olive is to be green while still on the tree.

The job of an olive is to hang on its branch through the long, hot summer, slowly and quietly growing without much water at all.

The job of an olive is to be picked from the ground when the days shorten and the Boreas blows.

The job of an olive is to be pressed into liquid gold, more precious than the finest of metals.

The job of an olive is to light up rooms, its oil filling a kandili before an icon, feeding an everlasting light for souls to find their way home.

The job of an olive is to be bitter when fresh to remind us that life too can sometimes be bitter, especially when plucked from the tree too soon.

The job of an olive is to flow its thick juices, golden, green, or muddy coloured, just like the seasons of life.

The job of an olive is to be tasted, its flavour fruity, tart, or rich.

The job of an olive is to not let us forget that life, though rough and dry at times, can be long and bear golden fruit.

The job of an olive is to remind me where I came from every time I pour its golden nectar over a salad.

Gas shortage? Rioting? Really?

"Gas shortage? Rioting? Really?" I said.

"Don't you watch the news!" my mom answered. The fuzziness of her Skyped image couldn't mask her surprise at my apparent ignorance or her worried look.

France (according to international news) is going ballistic. Demonstrations and rioting (mostly in the bigger cities)…gas shortages…blockades…cancellation of flights, trains, buses, etc. yet we continue on here, oblivious to it all. Today we walked to the tennis courts for Yanni's lesson (we don't have a car, so gas isn't an issue), sat on a bench to watch him play and basked in the warmth of the October sun. And yes, there was a strike yesterday. Tomee had the day off because of it (Yanni didn't...his teacher was one of the four who showed up for work) and we went shopping. The strikers paraded through town with banners and chanted slogans, but it wasn't menacing at all. No overturned cars on fire, no smashing of windows, just an interesting diversion.

I will admit to being a tiny bit worried about the flight thing though, as my mom and Liz are expected to arrive here on Friday. Their international flight into Paris won't be a problem, but we're not sure about the domestic Paris-Montpellier flight or if there'll be a gassed up rental car waiting to bring them to our 'oblivious' little corner of France.

Of course it is the start of the Toussaint holidays and even striking workers and rioting students don’t want to give up their time off!!

Pont du Gard

What a difference a week makes! Last weekend we took the bus to Avignon in t-shirts and tank tops it was so warm and yesterday we had to wear our winter coats for our early morning trip to the Pont du Gard. The thermometer outside my window was registering 6C just before we left to catch the 8:40 bus. It was the same route as last week but thankfully not the same driver...this guy had showered, and we got off on the third stop, about 15 minutes away. We then had to walk another 10-15 minutes to reach the actual site. The sun was just coming up over the mountain on the right bank of the Gard river opposite the side we were walking on and we were the only ones there when we reached it. What a beautiful sight!

Standing on this amazing aqueduct, it was hard to fathom how the Romans managed to build it without the use of mortar. Each slab of rock weighs approximately 6 tons and they were cut to fit precisely against each other using just friction. It's 49 m high and 274 m long, making it the highest Roman aqueduct bridge. It was built in the 1st century AD as part of the Nimes aqueduct system which carried 200,000,000 litres of water a day from the Eure source (at Uzès) to the households of Nimes. It was used as an aqueduct until around the 9th century and then fell into disrepair. During the 13th century, the seigneurs (and later the bishops) of Uzès were granted the right to levy a toll on anyone using the bridge and in return, they would maintain and repair it. Then in the 1700's a new road bridge was built, attached to the lower level of arches. That's the one we were able to walk across.

The Pont du Gard has survived three serious floods(1958,1998,2002), one of which submerged the entire lower tier (1958). It continues to be one of France's most visited tourist attractions.

We hung around on the bridge, then walked down to the riverbank to toss some rocks. I tried to imagine what this must have been like two thousand years ago. Was the scenery the same? Was the river higher? Did it look just like this to travelers of that time? I was snapped back to the present by the sound of foreign voices and the sight of groups of people crossing the bridge, coming towards us. Tourists, not Romans, just like us, here to be taken back in time...even just for a moment.

I found this quote by Jean-Jacques Rousseau, who visited the Pont du Gard in 1738 and captures the feeling of seeing this bridge for the first time so well.

"I had been told to go and see the Pont du Gard; I did not fail to do so. It was the first work of the Romans that I had seen. I expected to see a monument worthy of the hands which had constructed it. This time the object surpassed my expectation, for the only time in my life. Only the Romans could have produced such an effect. The sight of this simple and noble work struck me all the more since it is in the middle of a wilderness where silence and solitude render the object more striking and the admiration more lively; for this so-called bridge was only an aqueduct. One asks oneself what force has transported these enormous stones so far from any quarry, and what brought together the arms of so many thousands of men in a place where none of them live. I wandered about the three storeys of this superb edifice although my respect for it almost kept me from daring to trample it underfoot. The echo of my footsteps under these immense vaults made me imagine that I heard the strong voices of those who had built them. I felt myself lost like an insect in that immensity. While making myself small, I felt an indefinable something that raised up my soul, and I said to myself with a sigh, "Why was I not born a Roman"

As we crossed back over the bridge, we noticed some interesting engravings on some of the stones. It seems that stone masons in the 18th century were required to visit the site to view the quality of the bridge's masonry and many of them decided to engrave their names and the date on it while they were there. 18th century graffiti!

Another interesting thing to see is the giant olive tree on the left bank. Its trunk is 5 metres in circumference and it was originally planted in 908 in Spain and grew there until it was moved to the Pont du Gard site in 1985. I was disappointed that it hadn't really been standing near the bridge for its whole lifetime but I was also amazed that they were able to move a tree that big and that old without killing it.

As the place began to fill with other curious tourists, we went to check out the gift shop and the cafe. There is also a museum and a film to watch about the Pont but we decided to save that for our next visit with Grandma and Auntie El. We had coffee and a snack at the cafe then walked back to the bus stop and waited for our ride home. What a lovely way to spend a cold, sunny, Sunday morning!

Talents d'Uzès

When walking the streets of Uzès it is hard not to notice that it is a city rich in history and a centre of artistic expression. In fact, it has been officially labelled a "City of Art and History". Art galleries abound and you can often find a painter working on her painting on the side street in front of her gallery, or a potter spinning his clay in the middle of Place aux Herbes.

Last night I accompanied my friends, Rachel and Patrice to an exhibition called Talents d'Uzès, held in the hall of the old bishop's palace. It showcased the work of eighteen local craftsmen/women, including a jeweler, a luthier, a hatmaker, painters, sculptors, potters, furniture makers and metalworkers, and the work of eight students from the local Lycée des Métiers d'Art Georges Guynemer.

We have walked past this Lycée a number of times as it is on the main road that circles the town and have seen the artsy looking students hanging about outside, but I never realized what kind of Lycée it was. It is for those interested in learning the arts, and I don't mean drama, dance, and music. They teach students how to work with stone, metal, wood, furniture making and upholstery, etc. What a great option for students to have. The ones who were featured at this exhibition had won a contest with the pieces they had created and I was blown away with their talent. I wish I had taken pictures of all of their objets d'art!

The exhibition was packed with Uzètiens, including the mayor. We mingled and enjoyed a lovely glass of rosé, a so-so glass of red, and some fougasse, which is a kind of foccacia bread with tapenade tucked in the middle.

My favourite pieces were the metal escalier (see picture below) created by Franck Guérineau, the beautiful instrument created by the luthier Laurent Blanchard, the stone fountain created by sculptor Catherine Baudry, and especially the Cube ring (don't have a picture of it, but check out his link) created by Bénédikt Aichelé. ( I want it badly!)

We finished off the evening with a good bottle of red and some snacks back at my place. All in all a lovely evening!

I'm including some links below of some of the artists and of the Lycée. Check them out!

www.lebijou.fr (jeweler)

www.cabinet-maker.com

www.lesbellespierres.overblog.com

www.blanchard-luthier.fr

www.lyc-guynemer-uzes.ac-montpellier.fr

PAC à l'eau, s'il vous plait!

Il se dit en Provence que: "les gens qui n'ont jamais gouté Pac Citron ne sont pas de vrais Provencaux."

This is what it says on Distillerie A. Blachère's website. They have been the sole producers of this Italian syrup since the 60's. "PAC à l'eau" is what you ask for if you want to try this lemony drink. We were introduced to it just over a week ago at our friends' home and it is now our beverage of choice! Tomée and I prefer to drink ours with San Pellegrino (tastes like lemonada) whereas Yanni likes his mixed with plain old water (tastes more like lemonade).

Distillerie A. Blachère is the oldest distilllery in Provence. It began producing liqueurs in Avignon in 1835. Some of their earliest liqueurs, made from plants, herbs and wines of the region made them famous and were sometimes used for medicinal purposes. They included, "L'Elixer du Mont Ventoux, La Comptadine, and L'Origan du Comptat". In 1882, their drink "Rhum Zoulla" was used to rub the bodies of cholera sufferers. As thanks to the distillery, a famous regional composer, Germain Beraud dedicated a waltz to this life-saving drink and the city of Avignon also honoured them.

In 1960 they started producing PAC Citron, an italian syrup made of sugar and lemon. It became a hit all over Provence. It's name was created by the owner at the time, Louis Guiot, who took the first initial of each of his three children, Pierre, Annick, Christian, and Colette and put them together.

In 1993, the new owners moved the distillery to the village of Chateauneuf-du-Pape where they continue to produce PAC and a number of other syrups and liqueurs.

We love PAC Citron and are definitely going to have to 'pack' some PAC for home!

Does this make us "vrais Provencaux"?

If you're interested in finding out more about PAC, visit their website: www.distillerie-a-blachere.com/ . They also have really beautiful images of their old drink posters and advertisments.

First visit to Avignon

On Saturday, after doing our usual market shopping in the morning, we decided to take the bus into Avignon for the afternoon. It was a beautiful day (28C) and there was a bus leaving at 1:00. Avignon is around 40 km from Uzès, but the bus ride is an hour long as it stops in a number of the villages along the way to pick up and drop off people. It gave us a chance to see some of the surrounding countryside. We reached the bus station which is just outside the outer walls of the city around 2 and entered the inner city through one of its many arches (first picture).

Avignon is a beautiful walled city. In the 14th century, it was the capital of Christendom as the popes lived here. The Palais des Papes (which we didn't tour this time) was the headquarters for a group of cardinals who came very close to taking authority away from the popes in Rome. It was considered the Vatican of the north for a time, during which these popes (or 'antipopes') held extravagant court. Arts and culture flourished. The struggle between the popes of Avignon and the popes of Rome was over who would control the wealth and power of the Church. The reign of these "antipopes" ended in 1417 and the papal court here was disbanded.

After entering the city walls, we walked up the main road, rue Jean Jaurès-rue de la Republique which is a wide boulevard lined with stores and packed with people. It's the main shopping strip...almost like Bloor or Yonge or Queen West, but different. Tomee was in heaven! She wanted to go into every store of course, and Yanni did not, so we compromised and went into a few just to browse. H&M did manage to get ahold of some of my money.

We then visited the Pont d'Avignon whose real name is the Pont St. Bénézet because according to legend, it was inspired by a vision that a shepherd named Bénézet had while tending his flocks. It was built between 1177 and 1185. Only four of its original 22 arches remained after 1669 when half of it fell into the river, so it now looks like a bridge to nowhere. You get a beautiful view of the Palais des Papes from there, as well as of the Rhône river.

On our walk back down rue de la Republique we sat at one of the many restaurants and cafes in front of the beautiful Hotel de Ville and the Theatre and had a bite to eat. We actually managed to find a restaurant that had something we each wanted. Yanni had his Nutella crèpe (what else?), I had my café crème and dessert and Tomée had a huge bowl of spaghetti bolognese (that girl can eat!). All of a sudden, we heard live music being played, similar to Greek, women ululating and people clapping and singing. It was a wedding party and their entourage escorting a bride and groom into the Hotel de Ville to get married! So cool!

We took the 5:30 bus back to Uzès and were back home before 7. All in all, a lovely way to spend the afternoon.

Pros to taking the bus: it's cheap...only 1.50 Euros/per person, each way and the bus stop is around the corner from our house.

Cons: all the roundabouts along the way and having a bus driver that didn't realize that deodorant has been invented. Yanni and I almost puked from the smell and we had the same driver both ways!

Les Ecoles

With our third week of school coming to an end I thought this would be a good time to give some of our first impressions of the schools so far.

First off, when we registered at both schools, we were handed a list of all of the supplies we would need to get and let me tell you, parents buy EVERYTHING here, except the textbooks. I have spent 200-300 Euros just on school supplies alone. The upside to this however, is that I have noticed both of them taking great pride in organizing their stuff into the proper cahier, sheets of paper in crisp plastic covers, neatly organized in their binder. Teachers insist that students use pen (yes, Yanni too) and that everything is written in cursive, titles are underlined with a ruler, etc. Tomee had to borrow some notes from a boy in class to study for a history test and we were both blown away by the neatness of his writing done in fountain pen. And he's not an anomaly. She said that all the kids in her class have beautiful writing. Makes me wonder...what importance do we place on handwriting back home? Is it important? It certainly is impressive. How does it impact their learning?

Tomee's school. She goes to a college (grades 6-9 in Canada). It's the only one in town with approximately 700 students, many of whom take the bus in from the surrounding villages. It's more like a high school than what we consider a middle school. Classes start at 7:55 and end at 4:30 with a lunch break in the afternoon (12-1:30). Wednesdays are half-days. They are on rotary, there are no lockers...so she has to carry all of her stuff with her, and it's quite a large school, so just figuring out where to go was stressful during the first week or two. Most of the subjects rely heavily on textbook readings, doing exercises, and having tests, except for Euro English, which is Tomee's favourite class. She also gets to take Spanish and now walks around the house reciting whatever new phrases she's learned...Me llama Tomee...soy una chica. I love it...following in her mama's footsteps!

There is an Athletic Centre across the road that they use for Phys Ed. (Tomee hates gym) She has it twice a week--a two-hour class, during which they have been doing rock-climbing, and an hour class during which they run for the whole hour to build endurance! Yesterday though instead of doing gym, they had a two hour session on road safety and how to operate small motorbikes. She got to practice driving a vespa through a course!

Yanni's school. His is the largest elementary school (Kind. to gr. 5) in town with approximately 600 kids. The only other school in town is a smaller private Catholic school. Yanni's day starts at 8:20 and ends at 4:30 with a lunch break from 11:30-1:20 and two recesses. He has the same teacher all day on Mon, Thurs, Fri, a different teacher (the meaner one) on Tuesdays, and no school on Wednesdays. On Wednesday afternoons he takes tennis at the tennis club. The hardest thing for Yanni to get used to was that the days felt really long because they spend the entire time in class seated at their desks. There's no lessons on the carpet or group work. It's all teacher-led, with the students at their desks. He came home complaining that his legs hurt the first few days because he couldn't stretch them out during class. They also rely mostly on teaching from textbooks or handouts with questions to answer. Exercises on photocopied sheets have to be cut out and glued into the appropriate cahier and answered in the cahier. He has a dictee to learn each week along with a list of spelling words. This week he also had to memorize the poem, l'Albatros, by Beaudelaire, so there is a fair amount of homework but it is manageable.

Unlike Tomee, gym is Yanni's favourite class and it is the highlight of his week. He even wrote out the instructions for Dodgeball and gave it to the teacher so that the class could play it during one of their gym times. Of course, he's also happy that soccer is the chosen game of recess. The only problem though, he says, is that "they all think they're Rinaldo and spend more time fighting over the ball, and being hotshots than actually playing." The other big schoolyard pastime is trading cards. All of the kids walk around with these blue and

white binders full of cards that you can only get at Carrefour. They're cards of the different DreamWorks movie characters. He was out of the loop until last Saturday evening, when a new friend gave him her doubles (merci Garance) and got him started! Another friend at school gave him an extra used binder he had, plus some more cards and Yanni is now in trading business!

Overall, I'm quite impressed by how quickly both of them have adapted, academically and socially. I'm also impressed with the quality of education they have both had back home. Their level of French (thanks RH and Cosburn) has allowed them to almost effortlessly fit right in to learning here.

Start them young.

This morning, while enjoying a cafe creme and a pain au chocolat at La Nougatine (a quaint Salon de The), I got a kick out of this article in the local paper, "The students of the kindergarten have their own little grape harvest." Seems that the class trip was to a local vineyard where the students took their buckets and scissors and cut their grapes from the vines. They were then introduced to the art of wine-making and got to press the grapes they had picked! Leave it to the French to instill an appreciation of wine into their children from a young age. I think we need to add it to our curriculum back home. Who's up for a field trip to Niagara-on-the-Lake?

Vive l'auto francaise!

Having been married to a car fanatic for the past 17 (almost 18) years, I cannot help but take note of the cars around me. Back home, every car ride includes a commentary of the cars we pass. "What do you think of that one?" being the question I am most often asked. I have always favoured the European models, while Dad and son have a soft spot for the American muscle cars.

Tomee just likes everything sleek and expensive-looking.

So, walking the streets of Uzes, I've noticed some unusually shaped cars I've never seen before and decided to do an informal survey to give my car fanatic the four-wheeled lay of the land . What my survey discovered was that the French mostly drive French cars. Out of the 20 cars we counted on one side street, there were 8 Peugeot, 7 Renault, 1 Citroen, 1 Seat, 1 Fiat, I Volkswagen, and 1 Audi. Sixteen out of twenty French cars, and the rest, other European brands. There are very, very few Opels (Europe's GM), a few Fords, and the odd Honda or two. Peugeot and Renault definitely rule the road! Sorry to report...no muscle cars here. Vive l'auto francaise! :)